


All Our Friends Want Us To Fall In Love

by sian_jpg



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, General Awkwardness, Getting Together, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan Fluff, Phanfiction, Weatherman!Phil lol, but it's pretty vague seeing as i know nothing about working in a newsroom, dan is horrible at flirting, it's a basically a newsroom au, so office!au i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian_jpg/pseuds/sian_jpg
Summary: “And you really think this is going to work?”“Well, they’re not going to do it by themselves.”“I know, I know, It’s just....well, it sounds like something straight out of some cringe fanfiction.”“Dean, the entirety of the last two months of our lives feel like they’ve been one never-ending cringe fanfiction - I mean, seriously, have you met those two? Whenever they’re in a room together I feel like I’m an extra in some shitty straight-to-DVD romcom.”or the one where phil gets the weatherman job he's always dreamed of, dan is terrible at flirting and the whole office is rooting for them to get together - whether they like it or not.(title from "the good, the bad and the dirty" by panic! at the disco)





	

Louise is going to get those two together if it kills her.

It’s one of those days, those mundane, routine slow days – they’re playing some feature about some local charity fundraiser for a dog with three legs, make-up being hastily reapplied and cold coffee being absent-mindedly sipped in-between links. Louise, however, has managed to find herself a far better source of entertainment than a crippled puppy; she watches her co-anchor with a knowing smile as she catches him staring longingly at the latest addition to their news team, the new weatherman, for the third time today.

He’s blatantly head over heels for the guy, has been ever since he started a couple days ago – and she loves Dan, she really does, but his flirting tactic appears to be limited to staring and staring alone. And yes, while potentially endearing and yes, maybe could possibly, somehow be interpreted as cute, it’s starting to give her an aneurysm.

(The way he splutters indignantly and turns the same shade of red as her favourite lipstick at any mention of said weatherman is very funny, though.)

“You should just ask him out, you know.” She says, giving him her best smartass smile as he jumps at the sound of her voice, obviously being snapped back to reality.

“Shut up.” Dan says, self-consciously running one hand through his hair and punching the other presenter lightly on the arm with the other. Teasing Dan about his often disaster-prone love life is one of her favourite pastimes; it only annoys her when she has to constantly remind him he actually needs talk to guys in order to even attempt having a love life in the first place (a simple notion his social anxiety is repulsed by).

“For the last time, Lou, I don’t like him – stop trying to set me up with everyone I bloody make eye-contact with.”

“Did I say something?” She asks innocently, in the sugar sweet way she normally reads from an autocue. They fall silent for a while but eventually she can’t help herself-

“When’s the wedding? I’m setting you two up, so if I’m not at least maid of honour you guys owe me your firstborn child.”

Dan rolls his eyes but as soon as the pair make eye-contact again the bubble of any kind of tension between them pops – they burst into giggles, only silenced by a glare from one of their stricter producers who brusquely reminds them they’ve only got a minute until they’re back on air. 

“Shut up.” He says again, but it’s much less jarred and with a raw note of hope that instantly softens Louise’s smile. Dan’s got it bad, and they both know it. 

“We haven’t even talked yet, let alone started a bloody family. Besides, that’s... that’s not even biologically possible.”  
“I’d find a way.” 

He raises an eyebrow but his mouth forms a small smile.

“You know I’d never actually talk to him anyway, even if I did like him.”  
“I know.”  
“Which I don’t. Obviously.”  
“Obviously.”

“And even if I did, there would be, like, a one in a million chance he’d actually like me back.” He tries to say it humorously, like he normally tries to pass off any kind of insecurity, but her smile still falters anyway. 

Lou has known Dan more than long enough to know that he always falls way too easily and almost always way too hard. He’s a romantic, an obsessive one at that, and that coupled with the fact he never even tries to make anything that even slightly resembles a move means she’s normally the one he constantly complains to. 

From the little she’s spoken to him, Phil seems lovely, but by now, they’re both weary of any of Dan’s crushes. She can’t help but mentally prepare for weeks of cringe-worthy awkward disaster and trying to put her friend back together again. 

“You’ll never know unless you try.” She says gently.  
“Then I guess I’ll probably never know.”

Now is not the moment for this conversation, with ten seconds until they’re live and have to put on well worn facades of clinically bright smiles, telling questionably news-worthy stories to no-one that cares.

Later, when it’s all over with, Louise will try her best to be optimistic and try her hardest to not slap Dan in the face when his self-esteem crashes to rock bottom and she finds him moping in his pyjamas passionately lip-syncing Adele in his apartment. She’ll try not to remind him he can’t be sad if he never makes a move in the first place. She’ll tell him softly to snap out of it over a bottle of wine and he’ll eventually move on, soon finding a new object of affection to start the cycle over again.

But she’s seen the way he looks at this weather guy. Dan’s obsessive tendencies are more than routine when it comes to hot new colleagues, but something about the way he’s staring is different; hopeful, even. Even for a hopeless romantic Louise rarely see him like this. 

She can’t help but be a little hopeful too. 

(And, it might just be wishful thinking, but she might have even caught Phil staring back once or twice. Maybe. It’s a long shot, but it’s something.)

“A touching story there, thanks Charlie. Now for a recap of today’s headlines...”

There’s no time for wondering thoughts now as she presents a wide smile to the camera, robotically reeling off the worst the world can offer her today from the autocue and trying not to spill her coffee all over the papers on their news desk. 

But, however hard she tries not to, she can’t help but hope this time things might finally go Dan’s way. And Louise Pentland, co-presenter of the nation’s favourite breakfast news programme, five-time employee-of-the-month winner and three-time host of the office’s globally famous Christmas parties, is not going to let Dan let Phil get away without a fight.

***

PJ doesn’t mean to eavesdrop on them.

He means, it’s not his fault that he has to work way past when almost everyone else has gone home just to meet tomorrow’s stupid deadline, and it’s definitely not his fault his desk just so happens to be within close ear-shot of the new weather guy. 

He’s not responsible for his need for something, anything, to distract himself from the mountain of admin he’s bored to death of attempting to climb. The researcher, then, can’t help but let his attention wonder to the sound of Phil gently humming the Pokémon theme tune to himself as he types away at his desk.

And then, a few minutes later, he can’t help but overhear Dan’s feeble efforts at flirting. 

PJ’s rooting for him, he really is – Louise is one guilty of spreading gossip around the newsroom like wildfire, and pretty the entire team are now taking bets on when the two are going to end up getting together. 

He’s not getting involved.

Don’t get him wrong, they’d make a cute couple - but he’s observed Dan’s rarely effective flirting techniques before, and he knows not to be exactly optimistic. Besides, as a general rule, he would honestly prefer to stay out of his friend’s love lives. 

And okay, maybe this time, he can’t deny he’s become ever so slightly invested. By now, everyone has seen the way they look at each other when the other’s not looking, and even the most cynical can see there’s something there. It’s a spark, and maybe it will fizzle out, and just maybe, with some luck, it will explode. 

But that doesn’t matter, because he’s not getting involved. It’s really not his place.  
So, it’s boredom, curiosity (and maybe just a little bit of hope, though it’s not going anywhere) that draw his ears to Dan’s echoing, nearing footsteps in a pretty much otherwise deserted office. In his defence, he can’t really be blamed for wanting to know how this is going to turn out. 

“H-hey.”  
“Hi!”

From the little PJ’s actually had the time to talk to this guy since he started, he can already tell Phil practically exudes enthusiasm and sunshine-bright, friendly smiles to anyone he interacts with; he’s the kind of guy everyone wants to be friends with, PJ included (if only for his apparent good taste in video games). Despite only having audio to work with, he pictures the tall, lanky, startlingly blue-eyed guy with a haircut which was cool in 2006 greeting Dan with a cheerful grin.

“It’s...it’s Dan, isn’t it?”  
“Y-yeah. Yeah, right, sorry um – I’m Dan.”  
“Nice to properly meet you! I’m Phil.”

Regardless of Phil’s best efforts, the atmosphere is painfully awkward and the uncomfortable silence that follows feels like the social equivalent of nails on a blackboard. PJ kind of wants to cry, kind of wants to throw up from cringe and kind of wants to bury himself deep in the mountain of research he has to do just so he can stop listening to this.  
He keeps listening anyway. 

(But he’s still not getting involved.)

“Listen, I was, if you’re not busy, I mean, well, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to...”  
“Yeah?” Phil sounds almost hopeful, prompting a response, and Peej bristles with anticipation. Is he really going to-

“...help me write this report I have to shoot tomorrow? It’s only because of those series of freak storms in Somerset last week and stuff, and I thought you might be able to help or something – only if you’re free, obviously.” Dan rushes, trailing off hastily and PJ is this close to going over there and slapping him.

“No, of course, I’d be happy to!” Phil says brightly, and he’s totally overanalysing but he swears he can almost hear a note of disappointment in his voice. Holy shit, does Dan need better flirting tactics. It was better when he was just staring. 

Or, PJ muses as he glances between the 200+ emails he really should start replying to and the coffee machine a few desks away, maybe Dan just needs a little help to send him on his way.

He really shouldn’t get involved. It’s really not his place. He’s got all these emails to write, all this admin to finish and...  
“Great, thanks! I’ll just go get my stuff, it won’t take long I promise.”

As Dan’s footsteps retreat out of earshot to his desk at the other sides of the office room, PJ quietly makes his way over to the coffee machine, quickly filling up two cups. He nonchalantly saunters over to his friend’s desk, careful not to be noticed by Phil in the process, and stops halfway to steal a post-it note from Tom’s cluttered stationary collection. He scribbles a quick note:

_He likes Pokémon and I think he likes you too. Go get him._

After adding a quick little doodle of a Pikachu surrounded by love hearts he’s actually quite proud of, he sticks the post-it note to one of the coffee cups and continues on his way. As if a ninja, the researcher sneaks over to Dan’s desk, where the poor guy is sat with his head in his arms repeatedly banging his head against the table.

PJ stealthily places the cups down beside Dan without a sound and returns to his own desk. So, okay, maybe he’s failing miserably to not get involved, but he likes the sound of being a master matchmaker (and stationary thief), and he guesses he can’t help but want them to be happy. 

The thought is slightly too soppy for him though, so he finally gets started on drafting an email or two before his attention is turned back to the pair of voices again.

“You brought coffee! The one thing I need to survive, thank you.”  
“Really? With skin like that I though you survived off blood.” They both laugh, and it’s shy and awkward and still incredibly painful to listen to – but it’s a start.  
“You got me. At least I’m not sparkling.”

“I know what you are.” Dan says dramatically in a monotone, flat voice.  
“Say it. Out loud. Say it!” Phil returns just as melodramatically, only to dissolve in more giggles.

PJ shakes his head. _Nerds._  
They’re perfect for each other.

He doesn’t quite know which is worse – the fact they can both quote Twilight or the fact he knows they’re both quoting Twilight. He decides not to dwell on it, but when he zones back in to their conversation they’re still giggling and it’s much less forced and much more relaxed. It’s almost natural.

“So, this weather report, right?”  
“Right. Thank you, so much for this. I promise I will pay you in a least five more cups of coffee.”  
“It’s fine, really.”

He listens for just long enough for Dan to causally drop a Pokémon reference, and half starting to feeling guilty for intruding on their privacy, half satisfied with his light interference, Peej returns to work, the pair’s enthusiastic discussion about the best starters becoming background noise to the tidal wave of work he has to complete in two hours.  
He casually reminds himself to put ten quid on the bet when he gets in tomorrow.

Not that he’s getting involved. 

***

Dodie just started here, and honestly she thinks they’re all a bit mad. 

She’s only interning here for a month or so, to get some experience – she’s going to be a music journalist, and travel the world just to go to every festival she can find, and this is how she’s going to get there. She’s got to admit, when she applied, even when she first arrived in the newsroom yesterday she thought everything would be all business business business and, of course, everyone would be super professional. 

She’s been here for two days and there’s already been three all out wars over the last crumbling biscuit out of the tin, four reported rick-rolling incidents and some questionable fanmail sent to office for the one of the news anchors, who blushes furiously under his fringe. It’s been a weird couple of days.

So then, Dodie can’t say she’s really surprised when she first finds out about the bet.

“So, everyone’s gambling on whether these two guys are going to get together?”

“It’s more a matter of when, really.” Jack, one of the editors says, pushing up his glasses and putting his feet up on the table. He roots around in the biscuit tin before glaring at Dean who defends himself through a mouthful of the last custard cream.

They’ve got a fifteen minute break before the next shoot, and half the staff lounge in the break room, the topic of discussion somehow switched to two of the currently absent presenter’s love lives. Some just roll their eyes and go back to scrolling on their phones, but she casts a confused look at Hazel, the producer Dodie’s taken to following around set. She gives her a sympathetic smile and explains for her benefit. 

“It was these two idiot’s idea-“ Hazel points in the direction of Jack and Dean, who still has crumbs covering his shirt and who both take mock offence at the word idiot before being silenced by the producer’s glower.

“After Louise came in to gush about how they’re perfect together a month or so back, it became this kind of group pact that we’re going to try and set them up; except after two weeks of them refusing to make any sort of move whatsoever, most of us got bored and decided to try and make money off them instead.”

“We just thought we may as well use it to make a profit – these two are the most interesting news we’ve had in months.” Jack throws his hands up in the air defensively as Dodie listens with one eyebrow raised, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“And...everyone just goes along with this? Like it’s normal?”

“Have you met these guys? It’s actually scary how much they...I don’t know, fit, I guess.” One of the quieter camera workers suddenly pipes up, and everyone nods. Dodie looks back at Hazel, excepting the cynical stare that’s she’s become so familiar with over the past few days, but even she’s nodding.

“Cliché and a little creepy, I know, but it’s weirdly true. Also anyone who’s been here more than a month has witnessed the waking nightmare of Dan’s horrific flirting tactics, so  
we’re all kind of rooting for him at this point.” The blonde says.

“God, do you remember that sound guy he tried to ask out last year? That was the most painful thing I’ve ever had to sit through, and Dean once made me sit through all four Sharknado movies.” Jack says, and just like that the conversation turns to this guy’s previous unsuccessful flirting attempts.

Dodie’s just a little creeped with how apparently invested everyone seems in these two guys’ relationship – maybe a little curious, sure, but she can’t deny it’s just full on weird.  
That is, until she actually meets them. 

The bet is almost forgotten in her head the next day when Hazel asks her to take some kind of weather report she barely understands to Phil, pointing vaguely in the direction of two guys standing around off set, their laughter bouncing loudly around the studio. She almost feels like she’s intruding when she walks over, the way they’re looking at each other; it’s like she’s a third wheel.

“I’m just saying, Pretty Odd is definitely their best -”  
“-Oh no way, come on, it will always be Fever. No way in hell can anything beat I Write Sins -”  
“- Are you kidding? Nine In The Afternoon is a masterpiece- ”

Dodie restrains herself from gushing about Vices & Virtues to the pair, settling for a small smile as she clears her throat, stopping them mid-debate. She feels a little hot as they both turn their attention on her, towering over her with obnoxious height, but relaxes a bit at their matching friendly smiles. 

Before she can say anything, however, the guy on the left glances at his watch and does a double take, brushing his chocolate coloured fringe out of his face & sending a quick apologetic smile to the other.

“Oh shit, I’m on in like two minutes, I got to go – but see you later, yeah?” He says hopefully.

Satisfied by a nod, he sends a quick acknowledging smile to Dodie before dashing off to the other side of the newsroom. The other guy stares after him with such a soft, fond look it puts a bright, knowing beam on her face. She knows that look all too well.

He soon snaps back to her though, a sunshine like grin on his face. 

“Sorry, hi! Did you come over for something or...?”  
“Hazel wanted me to give you this, some kind of important weather report thing?”  
“Oh right, yeah, thanks!”

He takes the report from her and leafs through it quickly. Dodie takes it as her cue to leave and turns back, about to walk away before she hears his voice from behind her again.

“Sorry...you’re new here, aren’t you?”  
“Yeah, I just started a few days ago.”  
“Oh, cool! I’m Phil, if you didn’t know – I’m guy who tells everyone it’s going to rain again.” He smiles again and it must be infectious because she finds her smile becomes more and more genuine. 

“Nice to meet you! I’m Dodie.”  
“Nice to meet you too! Y’know, I’m pretty new too actually, only started last month...” He leans in.  
“...Everyone’s a bit mad here, right?”

She can’t help but agree and they both laugh.

“It’s okay, you get used to it after a while, it kind of just becomes normal – and soon enough, it feels like being part of one big, really weird family.” Phil continues, gesturing vaguely at the packed room full of presenters, producers, runners and technicians. 

Both their pairs of ears are drawn the sound of a loud, echoing laugh and Dodie sees the brown-haired guy from earlier joking around with his co-anchor, a pretty blonde woman she’s still a bit intimidated to talk to. She glances back at Phil to see that fond look on his face again and suddenly something clicks into to place: so they’re the guys everyone’s obsessed with trying to get together. Bizarrely, it now kind of makes sense. 

Phil soon realises Dodie is still there, though and instantly blushes. She gives him her best reassuring smile.

“You two make a cute couple.”  
“Oh no...I mean...I don’t...we’re not...like that...” He trails off exasperatedly, flustered and cheeks flushed with red, and it’s so adorable she can’t help but laugh. Phil gives her a look before sighing desperately.

“Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t mind if we...you know...and I’d love to actually...but it’s been like a month and...oh, I don’t know.”  
“Well, you obviously like him, and you guys are already great together -”

“I know, I know – that’s the thing though...he hasn’t said or done anything really that could even qualify as flirting and how can I be sure that he likes me back and, well I...I don’t want to lose him.” Phil finishes quietly and so despondent all she wants to do is give him a hug. After some internal debate she settles for some advice instead.

“Look - I know I only just got here and I know it’s really not my place but...I think he likes you.”  
“Really?”  
“Really – so you should stop waiting for him to make the first move, and go do it yourself. Before it’s too late.” She says honestly, and Phil thanks her sweetly before casting another fond look at the guy (who Dodie guesses, must be Dan) as she walks away.

She hears Jack & Hazel call her over and, for the first time, considers them as some new friends instead of her weird colleagues she’s stuck with for the next few months before she goes off travelling the world. 

And, later while she’s working on reports with them, she decides she likes it way better this way - she laughs at Jack’s stupid jokes, shares office gossip with Hazel and casts another reassuring smile at Phil which he returns just before he goes on air.

So maybe they’re all a bit mad, but after a month or two, when her internship is up, Dodie reckons she could stay here for just a little while longer.

***

No matter what everyone else might think, Jack’s just in it for the money. 

Honestly, he couldn’t really care less whether his two friends are fucking or not. He’d hope there’s more to his life than some stupid, cliché office romance – however, there’s easily £100 to win in that sweepstake by now and he was the one who said they’d be together by December. Today marks the dying moments of November, and his window of opportunity is slowly closing.

If someone doesn’t give them some kind of prompt soon, there’s no way he’s winning that cash.

It’s been nearly two months now. It’s painfully obvious neither of them are going to make the first move without a little help, those nerds. And so, Jack’s decided, he’s going to be the one gracious and benevolent enough to give them that little nudge in the right direction they need.

(It just so happens that this nudge is going to be more of a shove.)  
(Into the fourth floor storeroom.)  
(For which he has the only key to unlock and lock as he pleases.)

(Okay, so maybe he’s going to lock them in a cupboard until they admit they have feelings for each other, but he really could do with the money. He’s got no actual emotional attachment to their relationship at all.)

“And you really think this is going to work?”  
“Well, they’re not going to do it by themselves.”  
“I know, I know, It’s just....well, it sounds like something straight out of some cringe fanfiction.”  
“Dean, the entirety of the last two months of our lives feel like they’ve been one never-ending cringe fanfiction - I mean, seriously, have you met those two? Whenever they’re in a room together I feel like I’m an extra in some shitty straight-to-DVD romcom.”

Dean still gives him a sceptical stare, one eyebrow raised until Jack finally caves. 

“Fine. I’ll split the cash with you.” He sighs, wincing as Dean’s face breaks into a wide grin.  
“I’m in.”

Their plan is simple.

The newsroom is known almost country-wide for its infamous festivities, ever since the rather spectacular breakfast shitshow of 2012 featuring three very drunk cameramen, the unmoveable passed out body of the producer lounging on the presenters sofa and two very dishevelled looking hungover co-anchors wrapped in tinsel. The office, however, always swings straight into festive spirit in the first breath of December, and every room they own is transformed into what may as well be the bloody North Pole - it’s like they hire an elf just to throw up in every corner.

Getting to the point, this grand feat requires many things - but it mainly requires decorations.  
Decorations that just so happen to be kept in a cardboard box on a top left shelf.  
In the fourth floor storeroom. 

“So it’s clear then, yeah?”  
“Yeah – I ask Phil to get the stupid box of the decorations-“  
“-Just as I ask Dan to do the same-“  
“-Right, so they go up to the same stupid storeroom-“

“-And we follow them up there, shove them in, close the door behind them and lock it.” Jack grins, triumphantly displaying the key in the usually quiet second floor corridor the pair gave taken to plotting in. 

“They finally get together or whatever, we get the money – everyone’s happy.”  
“You missed out the part when they strangle us for locking them in a bloody closet.” Dean mutters under his breath, but Jack waves him off. 

“Eh, they’ll probably be too busy making out to even notice we’ve opened the door. Now c’mon, let’s go.” 

The working day is winding down, several of their co-workers wrapped up in coats and scarves waving a goodbye to them as they pass – Jack isn’t worried about either of them leaving though. Everyone knows Dan’s talent for procrastination means he tends to writes his scripts quite literally down to the deadline. He’s always almost last to leave the office at night and, sticking to their branding, Phil is nearly always with him. 

Jack leads a reluctant Dean through the quiet, empty studio and they stop at the door of one of the many miscellaneous office rooms, hearing laughter and voices from inside-

“Christ on a bloody bicycle, how many times – breaking the sound barrier happens when you go fast, you dildo.”  
“How am I meant to know? I’m not a sciencey...person!”  
“...Didn’t you have to study science to be a weatherman?”

“Ahem.”” Jack clears his throat, approaching where the pair are wheeling around each other in the office space in their spinny chairs. The two freeze, staring up at Jack while he gives them his trademark smart-ass smile.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything or -”  
“No, no, right, sorry. Can we help you?” Phil says, blushing a little.  
“Yeah, actually, if you’re free – could one of you help me with something? It’ll only take a minute, I promise.”

“I’ll help!” Phil stands from his chair, apparently oblivious to Dan staring directly at his ass. The brunette soon catches himself though and hides behind his fringe, hastily turns his attention to a very interesting patch of carpet: much to Jack’s amusement.

“Great, thanks – come with me, I’ll explain on the way.”

They starting walking, and Jack glances back just for enough time to see Dean give him a silent death glare before he starts to unenthusiastically shuffle towards Dan. He cracks a smile – so far, so good. 

“So...uh, where are we going?” Phil asks uncertainly.  
“Right, yeah – you wouldn’t know, but the office goes a bit crazy on Christmas decoration every 1st of December. There’s this massive ass box of decorations on the top shelf of this store cupboard, and-“  
“And you need me to get it down. Got it!”  
“Yeah, d’you mind? It’s on the fourth floor, straight down the corridor and your first right – you can’t miss it.” Jack says as the two reach the stairs, pointing to the little 4 on the unhelpful office map next to them.

“Aren’t you coming?” Phil says as Jack starts to walk away and he panics only for a second before hastily coming up with an excuse, spinning round on his heel.  
“No, I, err....I’ve got to file...this quarterly report thingy for tomorrow, y’know, boring analytics and stuff - just leave them outside Cieran’s office? He’ll sort them out in the morning, thanks.”

“Oh, okay. Fourth floor, straight down...”  
“First right.”  
“Got it. I think. Okay...” Phil starts walking up the stairs, muttering the instructions to himself so he doesn’t forget. As soon as he’s out of sight Jack breathes a heavy sigh of relief. One down, one to go.

He takes a breath before hurtling it down the empty corridor to the other side of the building by the lifts, stopping only to overhear Dan and Dean having a similar conversation.  
“Fourth floor, all the way down the corridor, first left?”  
“Yeah, you got it, thanks Dan – you’re a lifesaver.” 

Dean promptly power walks off towards Jack’s hiding space before Dan can ask any more questions, and once the two have heard the ding of the lift, spring into to action, running all the way back to the stairs.

“This is mad.” Dean says as they frantically climb the steps two at a time.  
“Full blown ridiculous, but do you want that cash or not?”  
“I’m seriously questioning whether having two men over 6ft crush me is worth the fifty quid.”

Jack scoffs at the word “men” but shushes Dean when they finally make it to the fourth floor, determined to be stealthy. They glide silently down the corridor, stopping when it comes to a crossroads and they hear familiar voices coming from the left.

“Well then, why would they both send us up here?”  
“I don’t know, maybe it’s just some kind of weird coincidence...let’s just bring the box down together, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
“It’s better this way anyway – if I’d tried walking down the stairs with this box alone I definitely would have tripped and broken all my limbs.”

They hear Dan’s laughter and Jack looks back at Dean. He’s about to count down on his fingers to when they’ll sprint towards the door and lock them in when the conversation starts up again and the two shrink behind the walls, stopping them in their tracks.

“Do...D’you think they...y’know?” Dan starts, trailing off.  
“What?”  
“Do you think they...know?”  
“What, about us? I don’t think so...Is that why you think they sent us both up here?” Phil asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

This completely derails Jack’s plan, and he starts to really wish he’d brought some popcorn. Does he feel slightly guilty for eavesdropping on their clearly private conversation? Slightly. Does he care, seeing as he’s pretty damn sure they just confirmed they’re together? Absolutely not. 

(But obviously, he doesn’t care about their relationship at all. He’s just in it for the money.)

“Nah, I’m probably just being paranoid again. I just...don’t know whether I’m...y’know.”  
“Ready to announce it to the world?”  
“Yeah. It’s bad enough as it is, everyone obsessing over us and – well, you know I’m crazy about you...I just...”  
“I know, I know. That’s why we’re keeping it secret, right?”  
“Yeah. C’mon, we should get these down to Cieran’s office so I can finish up.”

Jack and Dean take that as their cue to leave very, very quickly, running down the stairs to avoid being seen. Out of breath and incredulous, they don’t stop until they get to the staffroom.

“So they are....”  
“Yep.”  
“And they haven’t told us...”  
“Nope.”

“Those sneaky shits! It must have been Phil; Dan would have never asked him out without messing up and falling on his face or something. I knew it!” Jack rambles ecstatically, quickly pacing up and down the staffroom while Dean collapses in a nearby armchair.

“Do you get what this means, Dean? We got the money!” Jack finally stops pacing, face only to fall at Dean’s sceptical look.  
“What?”  
“You know we can’t take that money, right?”  
“But...”

“You heard what they said. They don’t want to be outed, and we sure as hell aren’t going to be the ones to out them, because we’re not complete assholes. They’ll tell us when they want to tell us, and we’ll act surprised when they do, because it’s the right thing to do.” Dean says. Jack opens his mouth to retort but soon closes it again, defeated. He knows this is a battle he can’t win without coming off as being a massive prick.

“Fine. Since when the hell did you become the righteous and y’know, moral one?”  
“While you were planning to lock two of your friends in a closet. C’mon, let’s go home. And if you breathe a word about any of this to anyone, I’ll tell Hazel everything.” 

Jack (slightly sulkily) follows him out of the staffroom, realising he’s got way more emotionally invested in this stupid relationship than he’d like to admit. Maybe it’s good that it didn’t really work out for him after all – at least it’s working for them. He then almost vomits at how disgustingly sappy that thought is, but he supposes he is glad they’re happy. He’s not completely heartless. 

£50 pounds isn’t that much money, after all.  
It’s not like it would really be worth it. 

***

Dan thinks whoever decorated this Christmas party really went overboard with the mistletoe.  
He means, it’s everywhere, but it’s not really the abundance of the plant itself that really bothers him; he has no issue with the sprout that bizarrely acts as an excuse for a disgusting amount of PDA.

No, what really bothers him are the eyes that follow him around the room, analysing his every move whenever he so much as steps underneath a goddamn piece.  
It’s as if they’re expecting covering the place in mistletoe is somehow enough to compel him to grab Phil by the collar of his shirt and passionately make out with him in the middle of the room. (Not that he hasn’t been fantasising about that since he got here, but that’s beside the point.)

The amplitude of the leather leaved, parasitic plant is just the latest in a series of not-so-subtle hints that their relationship is the most exciting news the office has ever had, and honestly? Dan has had enough. It was cute at first, sure, and he’s glad for whatever minor interference managed to get him and Phil together in the first place seeing as he sure as hell never would have done it himself.

(“Series of freak storms in Somerset?” Phil teases him sometimes, glint in his eye and that stupid massive smartass grin on his face. Dan buries his face in his hands to hide his flushed cheeks before having to playfully punch Phil to get him to stop laughing.) 

Now, however, the over-analysing and the whispers get to him, more than they should, despite how many times Phil might tell him to ignore them. He’s known they’ve had a bet on their relationship going ever since Jack & Dean tried to lock them in a closet, and he’s sick and tired of being subject to everyone’s stares every single time the two do so much as exchange a glance. It’s exhausting, and everyone scrutinising his every move tonight is doing his head in.

Of course, they could just tell everyone about their relationship – get it over and done with. But, however much Dan can’t deny he is absolutely, totally, head over heels crazy about his dork of a boyfriend, part of him can’t help still be scared to admit that to everyone. (Plus, he really doesn’t want to tell Louise she was right.)

So they’re stuck in a paradox, a six second looping vine of frustration with Dan trapped in the centre.

He walks around the party long enough to greet everyone, get mildly drunk, and somehow manage to get tinsel thrown around his neck, the bright sparkling gold contrasting heavily with his all black outfit. He’s almost ready to go home at the mention of the word “karaoke” –no amount of free mince pies are worth his ears bleeding.

That is, until the alcohol in his system starts doing the talking, and a few minutes later he suddenly finds himself compelled to stay by his favourite person in the world sidling up behind him, subtly wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist.

“Hey, you.”  
“Hey.” Dan turns around to a plaid button up shirt and glasses that give him heart palpitations. The stereo thumping out the dying notes of “Last Christmas” aptly fades away into the opening bars of classic Mariah Carey, and suddenly they’re both grinning at each other in the corner of the office like no-one else is watching.

_“I don't want a lot for Christmas; there is just one thing I need...”_

“How drunk are you right now?” Phil half-yells over the god-awful singing that has erupted throughout the crowded office, obviously surprised at how close Dan is to him right now with all these people around.

_“...I don't care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree...”_

“Drunk enough to know being this close to you is a bad idea, considering how kissable you are.” Dan half-ironically winks with a smirk; glad no-one else can hear him. Okay, maybe he’s little more inebriated that he thought, but he can’t help but mouth the words along, directing them at Phil who instantly blushes. He grins and starts to mouths them back.

_“...I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know...”_

God, he really wants to kiss him right now. One or two people have already begun to stare at them, Dan can tell, but he keeps his eyes focused on Phil’s other-worldly blue ones for now. They’re the only ones that matter to him.

_“...Make my wish come true...”_

They’re almost hiding really, discretely in that small corner of the office. No-one’s really paying attention to them...it’s too crowded and loud and busy to make out two guys making out. The exit to the abandoned hallway is all the way at the other side of the newsroom, and Dan isn’t sure how much longer he can resist, especially when Phil is so close. Would it really kill them if they kissed? 

_“...All I want for Christmas is you...”_

Dan leans in, and...  
...And a camera flash erupts in his line of vision, tearing the moment apart and breaking the pair apart too. The music is drowned out by the pounding in Dan’s ears; heart beating like’s it going to burst out of his chest, cheeks flushed crimson and the edges of his vision tinted red. The camera is the last straw – he’s calling them out, right here right now. 

He should be able to make out with his best friend wherever he wants, not just in empty corridors between links or in the fourth floor storeroom when he should be writing his scripts, and definitely without the fear of a camera being shoved in their faces.

He exchanges a quick questioning glance with Phil which somehow says enough, testing their psychic link. Phil gives a nod and before he can change his mind, Dan impulsively downs the rest of his beer and grabs Phil’s hand, dragging him to the centre of the room where the mistletoe is most thriving and all eyes are trained on them. 

The music even gets quieter for their benefit, and Phil gives Dan’s hand a quick reassuring squeeze before dropping it. Dan really must be drunk if he thinks this is a good idea, but he really can’t do this anymore. No-one else should have any kind of responsibility for their relationship except them.

Dan takes a deep breath before cracking a smile.

“Y’know, Phil, I can’t help noticing there’s all this mistletoe around...” He giggles loudly, gesturing wildly and yes, he’s very drunk – drunk on the three beers he’s downed, drunk on pure adrenalin and generally just highly intoxicated with Phil Lester. He doesn’t care.

Phil just gives him an amused smirk that Dan wants to kiss right off him. 

“So there is, Dan, almost an abnormal amount, wouldn’t you say?”  
“I would.”  
“And it always seems to mysteriously find its way above us, right?”  
“That it does.”  
“Well, isn’t that strange – it’s almost if someone’s gone to huge lengths to try and set us up or something?” 

“That is strange.” Dan says, their exchange getting louder and more exaggerated by the minute as they draw more and more of a crowd. Meanwhile, he inches ever closer to Phil at every chance he can get.

“But surely...” Phil pauses for dramatic effect, “...people would respect that we are the only people responsible for any kind of relationship we might have, and if we wanted to get together we would have done so by now on our own terms?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you – and you’d especially think no one, above all, our friends, would even dare trying to make money out of something that’s none of their damn business?” Dan questions dramatically, emphasising that last part and making most of the crowd flush in shame, staring at the ground. 

He doesn’t care about any of them though, not right now. There’s only one thing in this entire universe he cares about, and he’s standing right in front of him, looking pretty in a plaid button up shirt and glasses. 

“You okay?” Phil whispers in Dan’s ear.  
“Everyone’s staring at us.”  
“Yeah, I know – are you okay with this? With...with us? Doing this?”  
Dan’s eyes dart around the room for a second, but then they focus on Phil’s. 

It feels like all his uncertainty should melt away, in that instant they lock eyes – but it doesn’t. It stays, fear bubbling beneath his chest, because that’s them. Uncertain and awkward, far from a fairytale: for fuck’s sake, it took two cups of coffee magically appearing on his desk and some random new intern telling Phil to ask him out to get them together, after almost two months of shy glances and stained cheeks.

Their whole relationship is founded on uncertainty and awkwardness, and it’s messy and it’s perfect and it’s real and _so much better_ as a result, not like the whirlwind romances Dan has hopelessly imagined countless times before and constantly been disappointed by.

He still doesn’t know whether this is the right idea or not, telling everyone about him and Phil. But, by now, it’s their friend’s story as much as it is theirs, and honestly, Dan just wants to be able to hold his boyfriend’s hand in peace without paranoia. So he smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m okay with this.”  
“Alright then.” Phil says, winking before leaping straight back into the pair’s theatrics. 

“So, Dan, what do you think we should do about the staring?”

Dan cracks a wide grin, and Phil slowly follows his eyes up towards the mistletoe they’ve just so happened to innocently wander underneath. After a second, their eyes find each other again as they stand with pretty much the entire newsroom staff gawking at them. Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, smiling harder than he thinks he’s ever done in his life as he leans in to kiss him.

“I say we give them something to stare at.”

***

Phil is the one to make sure they donate the money from the bet to that local charity fundraiser for the dog with three legs – even if it’s only so him and Dan can go down to the shelter and pick out that dog of their own that they’re going to take home one day, when they have a flat and a piano and a jungle of house plants. 

They talk about their future a lot, despite only being together a few months – Phil thought it would freak Dan out at first, the little life he so often likes to imagine them having some day in the future, but Dan just laughs and grins and tells Phil what a terrible flatmate he’s going to be.

He likes to think about their imaginary flat on those routine, mundane slow days, with make-up being hastily reapplied and cold coffee being absent-mindedly sipped in-between links, when he catches Dan staring at him and subsequently everyone else staring at them like they expect the two to just get up and start making out in the middle of the room.

That’s just ridiculous.

It’s not like something like that would happen twice.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! ^-^ hope you enjoyed lol  
> say hi, leave feedback or just stalk me if you'd like at http://evanescent-lester.tumblr.com/  
> until next time!


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